Betrayal, Murder and unsolved mysterys
by Crazy.rabbit2
Summary: It has been three years since Francis Bonnefoy a popular student at the global academy was brutally murdered at a school party gone awry. Alfred F. Jones, was blamed for the murder and been locked up ever since. Not the best way to end the school year, one student dead, another behind bars. But the mystery isn't over just yet. Alfred wasn't the murderer, I will find the truth.
1. Chapter 1

It was three years ago when Francis Bonnefey, a popular member of the prestigious Global academy was brutally murdered at a school party, and as you can imagine it created quiet the scandal; A blonde French boy being slaughtered in what was suppose to be one of the safest and advanced schools in the world- it was a new's reporter's wet dream.  
They got the killer eventually, at least they thought they did. But the authority s are the first to admit, Alfred F. Jones wasn't the only suspect, not by a long shot. The Boy was the one unfortunate enough to be made a scape-goat. The Police just needed to put _**someone**_behind bars whether they really did it or not, people were hungry for justice and rumour has it the rich and connected Global academy, was paying the authority's a substantial amount just to 'get it over and done with'. So that's how the school year ended; One student dead, another behind bars. But that isn't the end of the story, oh no, there are many mysteries surrounding the case that remain unsolved, at least for now. But secrets don't stay buried forever, out of the original suspects, none of them are completely innocent, they all played a role in the death of Francis Bonnefey whether they acknoledge it or not.

Most of the modern world know the story of Francis' murder, at least they know the official version, provided by student Arthur Kirkland's Alibi; He and Francis were talking in the sports cupboard during he party, and Alfred came in, angry as hell about The French-boy cheating on his younger brother. This little tiff supposedly escalated to Jones picking up a metal bat and beating him to death in the most gory fashion until the handsome Euorpian boy was no longer recognizable. At first people suspected it was actually Arthur- but how could it be him? The boy's arms where both brocken at the time- in two casts, not to mention he was drugged with gamma-hydroxybutyric acid at the time. Why that was nobody ever found out- maybe something to do with the fact.. Oh I don't know.. finding out who the murderer was is a tad more important?

I know what your thinking.. 'that story seems legit, looks like Alfred is the Killer'- he's not. How do I know? The man's my brother and I know for a fact he's not a killer. I am determined to solve this mystery that has been festering for years, I will bring justice to Francis' death.

I am Matthew Williams. Remember me.

**(A/N; New project! I hope people like thiss.. just a quick warning. In this story, I'll probebly portray all the characters as in some way bad or damaged people. I know they are meant to represent countrys, but don't go thinking I think everyone from X country is a crazy murderour... But everyone will have their reasons. Anyway.. If you decided to read this, even if you don't like the look of it please please review! it's sad but they just make my day, really:D**


	2. Chapter 2

I looked at my old school through the wrought iron gate, the old place hadn't changed at all, at least not appearance wise.  
The building was still the same old red-brick mansion I knew. With huge, clear glass windows, and the big grand oak door still stood proudly at the main entrance the wave of nostalgia was already threatening to engulf me.  
It even smelled the same.. The sweet aroma of freshly cut grass and roses filled the air, with the hint of vanilla. And it made me sick.  
This wasn't a happy or pleasant place like how it appeared, this place was where I spent the worst 5 years of my life, and this is also the place Francis was murdered. This isn't a school, it's a crime scene.  
I put my fears to the back of my mind, and forced myself to ignore the feeling of dread I had a mission to complete, sucking in a breath of air, I strode forward down the lane, though the old courtyard into the school.

I made my was through the school, it's pristine corridors were immaculate as ever. It had taken far too long just to get inside the actual building- I had to negotiate with a gum-chewing sectary and some burly security guards before I was allowed in, despite the face I'd pre-booked for my free-lance investigation I was still regarded with suspicion It's amazing how despite it seeming like almost a life time since I'd been here, I still knew the place like the back of my hand, the hallways were empty too- it looked like most of the students were outside enjoying the sun. All too soon, I reached my destination- the P.E stockroom were Francis was murdered. The feelings of regret and trauma were undeniable now, part of me wanted to hide, ignore this part of my life- but I still pressed forwards flicking on the lights. I gasped. Inside it was a memorial to Francis- it was small but a memorial all the same. Imprinted on one of the flagstones of the wall was ' In memory of Francis Bonnefoy A much loved student who lost his life here'. My throat felt sore and my eyes burned with tears- maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I wasn't ready to unearth all these memory's of an' old friend who died. What really set me of, was the Gold-framed picture of the French boy . He looked exactly as I remembered him- silky shoulder length hair, and a cheeky smirk, his eyes a rare shade of sapphire blue twinkled with their usual mischief in the picture.

Unable to help myself, I remembered Francis's death... It was at a school party, these affairs were usually rather lame.. They consisted of orange juice, poor music, and the traumatic site of watching teachers attempt to dance (ATTEMPT being the key word here.) However, this particular party was nothing like that- Gilbert Beillschmidt , a wild German Albino who claimed to be Prussian had snuck in a few crates of beer, and being the impressionable young teenagers that we were, the student body quickly became intoxicated. Students ran riot, while teachers tried in vain to calm the mess down. I can remember exactly what I was doing at the time- in my semi-drunk state, I was slumped across the table ranting at anyone who would listen. " So!.. So you'll never believe what Alfred did then, eh!" I slurred to Lovino Vargas, the only remaining person on the table. " He- He taped the cat to the dog! Crazy, eh! But you know what knocks me sick, eh? I got the blame!" Lovino would nod in return, before he began ranting about the favouritism shown to his younger brother, Felinciano. The two were Italians who both attended the school and had a reputation for being cry-a-baby's. However, our petty ranting was soon interrupted " Help! Help! Get in here, help!" A voice screamed out, it was not an ordinary shout, it was one of pure terror that caught everyone's attention- it was Alfred's voice.

Quickly everyone on the room followed the voice to see what was going on, teachers told us to 'let them handle it' but we'd been ignoring them all night, we weren't about to change that now. " I bet the fool thought he saw a ghost or something." Merlin Kirkland muttered in his crisp Welsh accent, he was a mysterious boy with a seemingly moody extrea . Nobody knew much about him, although everyone knew his younger brother, Arthur. A murmur of agreement went through the small crowd, I was one of them, believing my half-brother must be over -reacting again- he really was so dramatic. It didn't take us long to reach the stock-cupboard were the screaming was coming from, out of the eleven of us, it was Gilbert Beilldschmidt who opened the door. " Let's see what the yanks pissing his pants over," He muttered.

I will never forget what I saw on the other side of the door; The first thing I noticed, was Alfred running round the room like a headless chicken, a metal rounders bat in hand, I was about to ask him what was wrong, when I spotted the thing that must of caused his panic A body lay dead on the floor, face up I couldn't even make out the hair colour because of all the fresh blood matted into it, But despite the dark black bruises, and the disgusting swelling, I could still make out the face. " Francis!" I screamed, I wanted to run over but my feet seemed to root me to the spot, despite feeling completely sober now, the room seemed to spin. Around me my fellow students seemed to be reacting in the same way more and more people were arriving to see what the fuss was about, and they screamed too. Despite the amount of people around, each of us felt completely alone trying to come to terms with what had happened.. Nobody had any idea what to do. My eyes lingered on the French boy'd beaten body once more, and I noticed who was sat next to him. Arthur Kirkland Was slouched on the floor near Francis, the British boy's uniform splattered in blood. I wondered why he didn't move, why he wasn't panicking. That was until I saw his expression; his eyes were unfocused, and his mouth hung open.. He looked confused and scared.. _' He looks more than just drunk'_ I thought subconsciously still to shocked to think properly let alone move.

" Vhat the hell happened!" Gilbert demanded, grabbing the screaming Alfred and shaking him so violently I was afraid my brothers head would come of. " I-I heard a noise, So I came here- Artie was just sitting their and Francis he- he was!" Alfred couldn't even finish the sentence before he succumbed into a fresh bout of hysterical tear-less cries. It seemed as though most of the students reacted the same way I did- not that I noticed at the time, but everyone must have been frozen like me, because Gilbert was the only one who seemed to be doing anything. " Kirkland! Hey Arthur! Brit boy!" Gilbert yelled attempting to pull the green-eyed blonde up by his cast-clad arms. Arthur's arms had been in casts since he broke them mysteriously a week before the party, he just came back to the dorm late one night, and in the mourning his arms were all purple with bruises and he was almost crying with pain, he went to the nurses office and came back with his arms in casts. Nobody knew how it had happened, and Arthur would yell at anybody who had dared to ask. He was a strange boy, that Arthur. But when Gilbert hoisted him up, The blonde just lent against him, seemingly unable to stand on his own. " Hey! Vhat the hells wrong with you!?" The albino demanded.

Suddenly, I was vaguely aware of Mr. Ludwig Dietrich entering the scene He wasn't really a teacher, just a man not much older than us, who came in to do a junior army training course. He was a strict man, but we students always admired him. He stood next to me and inspected the stock cupboard for a moment, a grave expression on his face. " Everyone leave." He commanded. " Felinciano! Go fetch the headmaster! Beillschmidt, help get Arthur and Alfred out of here!"

It took me a moment to register what the German was saying, but as soon as I did I walked out shakily. Everyone else was doing the same, we always did what Ludwig told us out of respect for all the help he gave us with our school work and problems. He was a good man, Ludwig. I can't really remember what happened next, my memories are fuzzy, but from what I can gather from what my fellow students told me, I broke down, lying on the floor sobbing my heart out hysterically. I wasn't the only one doing that.

I snap myself back to reality, feeling a little shaky from remembering my past trauma, I didn't even notice I was crying, but I could feel the tears rolling down my face. But I was glad I remembered, because it evoked stronger feelings, and made me want to avenge Francis' death even more than before. Cautiously I pulled out a list from my pocket, a list of the names of all the people that could've been the murderer or could at least have something to do with it.;

-Gilbert Beillschmidt .

- Ludwig Derdiecht.

- Felinciano Vargas.

- Arthur Kirkland.

- Alfred F. Jones.

- Ivan Braginsky.

I dried my eyes and looked up at the ceiling now who should I pay a visit too first?


	3. Chapter 3

To say Gilbert Beillschmidt was easy to find was an understatement. One quick search of his name into Google brought up a whole host of news story's revolving around his petty crimes; From car theft to burglary, Gilbert had done them all, it seemed the self proclaimed Prussian had turned into even more of a cunt since leaving high school.

I stood outside the outside the dingy council flat feeling nervous- this place was just so different from what I was used to, so rough and dangerous looking. I stared at the door in front of me there were profanities scrawled all over the chipped wood, things like 'Mark is a feltcher' and ' F.T.M _\!/_' it was in such a horrible state that I almost felt sympathy for the albino cunt on the other side. Almost.

I know you're probably wondering _'Do you have a grudge against Gilbert or something?' _Well to answer your question, yes, yes I do. Gilbert, like most people in high school, was someone who took advantage of my nervous disposition, and timid nature. Although he'd never lay a finger on me, he'd frequently force me to do his homework for him, or buy him things, or even tidy his room. He used to call me his 'little Canadian maid' just thinking about it makes me shudder.. I guess you could say he was my high school bully?

Gilbert hung round with Francis, and the two along with Antonio a Spanish boy formed the 'bad touch trio' (were the name came from I don't know). However, despite this alliance, I always got the impression Gilbert only really worked for himself. He would frequently argue with the other two, and it wasn't uncommon to see him eating by himself at lunch for weeks on end.

Timidly, I knocked on my high school bully and murder suspects door, half hoping he wasn't in. However, like most things in my life, my hopes were dashed as within a minute the door was swung open by a disgruntled-looking Gilbert. I was surprised by how much he'd changed in the past three years- he looked thinner now, his face gaunter and his eyes more prominent. He had a hint of stubble dusting his cheeks, but his ruby red eyes still gleamed with their old mischief.

" Who are you, Vhat do you vant?" He asked gruffly glaring at me. I had the impression that I'd just woke him up. " I don't Vant any drugs if that's vhat you're selling. I'm too awesome for that."

" N-no I'm not here to sell drugs!" i squeaked, unable to muster a strong sounding voice. " I-I'm Matthew Williams!"

" Is that Suppose to mean something to me?" He snarled, I remember at school he was always moody of a mourning it appeared he hadn't changed quiet so much after all. " You voke me up for this!?"

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed he didn't remember me.. after all we'd been through together, I would of thought _he _would recall me at least. But he couldn't.

" I went to your school- Global academy!" I Uttered. " I used to clean your room with you I went out with..Francis.."

Gilbert froze for a second in thought, and then realization swept over him, and his mean snarly warped into a friendly smile. " Oh Matthew of course, come in, so good of you to Visit the awesome me, Ja."

Sheepishly I followed him in to the apartment not expecting such a warm reception- now how was I suppose to ruin the nostalgic mood by bringing up Francis' death!? I was surprised by how neat the German's lounge was- the furniture was a little cheap and ratty, but everything was clean and in good order. Well at least in the living room.

" Sit down, sit down, come on then! tell me vhy you're here." He demanded, still smiling. " It's not just a social visit is it?"

I shook my head truthfully " No, it isn't. I'm here about Francis' murder."

" Vhy bring that up now? it's all over and done with, ja? Sorry to break it to you but they got the killer- Alfred did it." He snarled, his angry expression back in place.

" You don't really believe that, do you?" I questioned stubbornly looking Gilbert straight in the eye- anyone who knew Alfred could tell he was no killer.

Gilbert dropped his gaze, defeated. " Nein I don't- I mean, I'm not sure." He mumbled. " But I vant to believe it's him! I need it for closure.. how am I suppose to live with myself if I think the killers still out there?"

" I'm going to find the real killer. I'm looking for him right now." I said simply in my eternally quiet voice. Gilbert eyed me with disbelief.

" You're not here because you think **I** killed him? Nein! I didn't kill Francis!" Gilbert shouted desperately, I got a sick sense of satisfaction of _finally _being the one in control.

" You are a suspect." I replied almost apologetic " Nobody can confirm your alibi of were you were that night- ' sitting in the field alone while there was a party going on' it doesn't seem like a very believable excuse, eh?"

Gilbert paled, his face contorted into a mask of fear. " I didn't do it." He hissed. " I'll prove it- I'll find the real murderer with you!"

" Excuse me?" I gasped startled by this preposition. " I'm sorry but I can- "

" Haha! We'll solve this mystery twice as fast if we do it together- what do you say, Canadian maid?" Gilbert interrupted a smirk now plastered on is face. I cringed inwardly at the use of _that _old nickname.

I tried to protest- I really did, but Gilbert was up in my face insisting he would help. I can't ever say no can I? After arguing all I could stand, I decided to let Gilbert tag along with the investigation- who knows he may unearth something I couldn't although.. he is still a suspect, everyone is.

**( a/n: Another short chapter :p.. I thought this one was a little ..meh.. but it's important to the story-line. I'm thinking of adding a little PruCan to this story, not my favourite pairing but it seems approriat for this setting..hmmm. anyway THANK-YOU! for everyone who reviewed, without you guys I mightent of made this! **

**PLEASE REVIEW! :D.. That one little review means a lot to me! Virtual cakes for all who review woo!**


	4. Chapter 4

" I had an argument with Antonio, I was drunk and upset so I went outside.." Gilbert explained, telling me his side of the story from.. that night. " Then I heard shouting, and saw the crowd- I followed them, ja and- well you know the rest."

I had told Gilbert that if he was to join me on my investigation, he's have to go through a through interrogation. I had to admit, watching my high school bully squirm under my imposing questions gave me an odd sort of satisfaction. I'm turning into a sadist aren't I?

" Hmm, I remember that night you weren't scared as most.. In fact you almost seemed like you weren't shocked.., Eh?". I stated trying my hardest to galre, remembering how that night it was Gilbert who opened the door, Gilbert who tried to question Arthur and Alfred, Gilbert who wasn't frozen in shock..

" Eh- I was totally shocked! Completely shocked! Who wouldn't be!" The Albino shouted, gaining the attention of the other people sat in the small Cafe. ". I just went to autopilot!"

" I see.." I mumbled, writing down in my little red note-book _' seems defensive .'_ Still glaring at Gilbert I took another bite from the cafe's pancakes ( which were disgusting by the way) I could feel a blush dusting my face as I became aware of the stares of the public. I both hated and craved attention.  
" Are you done already?" Gilbert asked, " It's not me, Ja!.. Let's continue the investigation already."  
" You're still not of the hook." I told him firmly. Just because he was helping me with the . " But I suppose it's time to follow other leads."  
The German in front of me smiled eagerly "Awesome. It's about time- where to first?"

* * *

" You open the gaet,.. please."  
" Nein! You do it!"  
" B-but.. You're my assistant you do it"  
" It's your investigation!"  
" I thought you were meant to be awesome and fearless, eh!"

Gilbert and I were dithering outside the large iron door that lead to Ivan Braginski Mansion house. Ivan Braginski was a Russian boy, a year above me back in school. He is one of the top suspects for being the murderer, why?- because it was his baseball-bat which was used to bludgeon Francis to the death.  
When the Russian boy first arrived, he used to carry a rusty facet pipe round with him as a 'defence mechanism' as he put it. However, after his broke a Lithuanian boy's jaw with it, the pipe was quickly confiscated by the teachers, only for Ivan to start carrying round a metal rounders bat instead. The very same rounders bat used to kill Francis. The police couldn't prove anything, but I'd know that bat anywhere. The slower ones among you may be wondering.. So why are you so terrified to even open the gate to his house?.. Well let me tell you, even if Ivan wasn't a weapon carrying, Lithuanian jaw-breaking murder suspect, the mere thought of going to his house would still send shivers down my spine.

Ivan, you see, had turned fear into something of an art. He managed to inflict terror onto just about anybody. That innocent smile of his would lull you into a false sense of security at first, but pretty soon his true colours would show. The most ironic thing is, Ivan caused this unparalleled fear without even himself noticing.

" Why do they always run away- ?" That was the first thing the Russian boy said to me directly, it was after he'd tried to join in our baseball game, only for everyone to run away at lighting speed, unfortunately I wasn't fast enough to get away on time.. So I was cornered by this Russian with an intimidating aura..  
" W-well.. I think you just came at a bad time t-t-they just had to leave." I stuttered while inwardly cursing my brother and his friends for leaving me here.  
" Nobody seems to like me.."  
I couldn't even bring myself to lie to him at that moment..

Back at the present Gilbert had managed to prise open the metal gate. " Kesese! The awesome me will always prevail!" He cackled as he walked through the now ajar gate. . " Your such a sissy, Matthew! I'm not afraid at all!"

I rolled my eyes. My Albino assistant clearly was frightened, the way his had gone up an octave was evidence enough, regardless, I was glad he'd managed to open the gate. I don't think I would of been able to. Both of us walked along the foot path in the large yet deprecated garden, there was rubbish and dead plants littered all round the great estate it gave the place an eerie kind of beauty, and I have to admit it suited Ivan perfectly. I did some research into this place, it's used to belong to a German Mafia family, until it was sold to a man named Obshchiy zima Braginsky, a man I belive to be Ivan's dear old late father.  
" Um, Excuse me!" I turned to see a young woman with short grey hair, and a sizeable chest bounding towards us she had a kind of worried expression on her face, her accent was somewhat similar to Ivan's. " This is private property! I-it belongs to my brother!"

" Well, as it happens we're here to see Ivan." Gilbert said, before I had a chance to interject " We're old friends of his- from school"  
At the mention of the word 'friends'The woman's face lit-up.  
" Friends? Of Ivan's? Oh! How wonderful!" She beamed, smiling like a little girl who'd been given a pony for christmas " Sorry- he doesn't get many friend's over see.. So I'm a little excited. Come! I'll show you to him."

With that the woman took Gilbert and I by the hand, and began leading us of. I could hardly belive how easily this woman was won over, for all she knew we could be Murderers.. maybe living with Ivan made her immune to fear.

My albino assistant looked at me, a smug expression on his face, I rolled my eyes again.. Gilbert had always been full of himself. I took a moment to study the woman leading us. She looked a little older than Gilbert and I, but she still had the mannerisms of someone far younger.  
" Oh! How could I forget to introduce myself?" The silver-haired woman said suddenly as we approached the door. " I'm Katyusha, Katyusha Braginsi. Ivan's older sister."  
" I'm Gilbert- and this is Matthew." A certain German boy said, cutting me of once again.. Would I ever get a chance to speak for myself? I always was quite quiet, letting others walk all over me.

" Wonderful! I think he may of mentioned you two before" Katusha said with a smile. How this lovely woman was related to Ivan I'll never know. " His room's just on the left.. It has the oak door.. Have fun kids!"  
"D-do you think he'll mind us coming in?" I stuttered, shuddering at the thought of Ivan sitting on the other side of the door.  
" Ha! Nervous already?" Gilbert asked teasingly.  
" Not a bit." I replied, stiffly. It was the truth I wasn't nervous I was terrified. I could hardly believe Katyusha had left two complete strangers alone in her house. Never the less, we had a Russian to interagate, and I wasn't about to back down now.

Before we even had a chance to knock at the door, it had swung open, causing both Gilbert and I to jump out of our skin. There stood in the doorway was honesty, he had hardly changed; His face was less rounded now, and he's somehow managed to get even taller, but other than that he was the same Russian from high school, at least appearance wise. The thing that had changed the most where his eyes. They used to be playful and mischievous but now they seemed cold, grief-hardened.. as unforgiving as the Russian winter. I look into things too deeply, don't I?

" What are you two doing here?" The man asked almost immediately, cocking his head to the side in curiosity, he didn't see surprised to see us at all I wonder if he could see us coming on security cameras or something " I'm. Guessing this isn't a social visit, da?"  
" W-well.. We're very happy to see you again after all this time, eh." I said. Everybody knew that was a lie. " But we- uh.. Well we have some important business we need to discuss with you."  
Ivan eyed us suspicoulsy for the briefest of moments before nodding, and smiling widely his old creepy smile " If my old friends say it's important then it is~" He said with grin " Some I will make us drinks, we shall discus business in my study."

With that he began walking away, gesturing for us to do the same, I took in a deep breath and followed, Gilbert by my side. Now what!?

* * *

**( for such a short shitty chpater this took me a long while to do- whaaat! I was busy.. but sory I'll try to be quicker! Aww, I feel sorry for Ivan in this chapter.. everyone running away from him in school :'(.. so THANKYOU! for all you magical people who reviewed, this chapter wouldn't be made without you(:.. pleassee review!**

**PLEASE! :D**


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